Chapter Seven
Melissa
The weather has turned chilly and raw, perfect weather for holing up in my studio and painting, not so good for cleaning out the gutters, which Jeremy insisted on doing. He’s been out there for a few hours, working his way around my roof, scooping out the gunk and leaves. He chased me away when I tried to hold the ladder for him, and I’ve been trying not to look because every time the ladder shifts, my heart leaps into my throat.
Instead, I’ve retreated to the kitchen to make a pot of chili and some cornbread. If he insists on fixing up my house for nothing in return, I’m at least going to feed him. Woody lies in the corner with his favorite toy, giving me a look I can read all too well. Jealous little thing.
Pointing my spoon at him, I warn, “Jeremy is going to eat with us, so you’d better behave. No barking and growling, mister.”
His dark little eyes dart to stare behind me and a growl rumbles his body. I turn to find Jeremy standing behind me, his lips twitching as if he’s holding back a laugh. More likely, they’re restraining some smart-ass remark.
“Shit. I’m going to hang a bell on you!”
Jeremy takes off his baseball cap, steps around me and washes his hands at the sink. “He doesn’t listen well. You two seem to have that in common. Gutters are done. Your roof needs some repairs. I—”
My arms fold across my chest, and I give him my best Don’t fuck with me glare. “You aren’t touching my roof unless you sit your ass down and eat. I don’t know why you’ve made my place a project, but if you aren’t going to let me do anything in return, you’ll have to find another way to fill your time.”
I stand my ground as he stalks over to me, one heavy footstep at a time, his intense eyes locked on mine. He’s got at least eight inches on me, and though he’s not bulky, I’ve seen the lean muscles that live under that shirt. He smells amazing, a mixture of the fall air, dead leaves, and some kind of soap, all taking a backseat to the natural scent of him.
I take a step backward, until my back is against the cabinet, and his hands land on the counter on either side of me.
He bends over me, and his breath in my ear sends goosebumps racing up my arms. “I don’t take direction well, Melissa.” For a half a second, I think he might kiss me. His gaze stays focused on my lips as he reaches behind me and grabs a paper towel, then steps back to dry his hands. “But the chili does smell good.”
He walks to the table, takes a seat, and casually rests his foot on his knee, waiting for me to serve his food.
I open my mouth, but I can’t think of anything to say. I’m overwhelmed by the way he affects me, but I want to choke him at the same time. He’s so damned arrogant and surly and fucking sexy. Why do I always fall prey to these types of men?
I ladle us both out a bowl of chili, and place them on the table with a pan of cornbread. I’ve barely set down the glasses of iced tea when he digs into the food. An awkward silence falls over the room. Instead of trying to force uncomfortable conversation, I flip on the small television in the corner. My favorite murder mystery show is on, and I’m not missing it just to hear him grunt at me.
When I look away from the T.V., he’s staring at me. “You watch Dark and Unsolved?”
Wow, initiating a conversation. How far we’ve come.
“Yeah, I can’t believe how many ways people have found to kill and get away with it. The title isn’t apt, though.”
His eyebrows raise a tiny bit as he looks up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Most of the time they catch the killer, even if it’s years later. Very few are actually unsolved.”
He nods, chewing his food. “Good show, though.”
“I never miss it. That and How We Met are my two hours of guilty pleasure a week.” The glint of mischief in those coffee colored eyes make me wish for far more guilty pleasures with him. Naked, sweating, screaming guilty pleasures. Yeah, Melissa, just so he could kick you out in the morning. I need to reign in those thoughts.
A smirk finds his lips. “So, murder and romance?”
Shrugging, I sip my drink. “It’s the two sides of life, isn’t it? Love and Hate. Happiness and revenge.”
“You don’t think someone could find happiness through revenge?” His intense gaze burns into me while he awaits a response. How did this conversation turn so deep and serious?
I give his question some thought. Because my instant response would have been yes. I’m thrilled Dillon is dead and if given the chance to kill Anthony without repercussions, I’d take it without hesitation.
“If there were no consequences, sure. Prison wouldn’t make most people happy.”
“True,” he replies, and turns his attention to the screen.
We both watch the show, pulled in by the plot and mystery. During a commercial, I clear the table, and I’m happy to see he makes no move to leave. Without asking, I set a piece of cherry cheesecake in front of him, before sitting down with my own.
“The wife did it,” I announce.
Jeremy looks up at me, and god help me, I’m staring at the sight of the fork sliding out of his mouth. Those lips. Ugh. It’s got to be pregnancy hormones making me want to plant my boobs in his face.
“Nope, it was the kid,” he argues.
“You’re crazy! He’s ten! How did he get the body buried?”
“The kid stabbed him to protect the mother and the mother helped cover it up by burying the body.”
“No way. The guy abused him, so the mother killed him to protect her kid.”
Amusement glows on his face as he asks, “Want to bet?”
“Bet what?”
He sits back, resting his ankle on his knee. “If I’m right, you let me finish the work around your place without an argument.”
“And if I win?”
“Name it,” he dares.
Oh, he isn’t going to like this.
I point to the flyer hanging on my fridge that advertises a class at the local community center. “You have to attend weekly birthing and baby care classes with me. I’d like to go, but they say to bring a partner, so I don’t want to go alone and look like a loser.”
His face hardens. “Being pregnant and unattached doesn’t make you a loser.” He sighs, and his gaze locks on mine. “It makes the absent father a loser. It’s a bet.”
We fall into silence as the show resumes. A few minutes later, a grin breaks across his face as the narrator lays out how the kid killed his stepfather. “I’ll be damned. You can smile,” I remark, the words escaping before I have a chance to think about them.
“Don’t change the subject. I win. I’ll get the tiles tomorrow.”
A snort of laughter jumps from me. “Yeah, I’m getting my roof fixed for free. You really showed me.”
Shaking his head, he gets to his feet. “Not free. I like your cooking. One roof for a big pot of this chili.”
“I think I can manage that.”
He tucks his baseball cap down over his head, subtracting five years from his age. “See you later.” With that, he’s out my back door.
All I can do is stare after him. He’s got to be the most confusing, but utterly lickable man I’ve ever come into contact with. I need a shower and a few minutes with my battery operated boyfriend.
#
I’ve been feeling bored and cooped up lately, so I decide to head a few towns away to a mall, where I can do some shopping. If I’m going to make another pot of chili for Jeremy, I also need to stop at a grocery store. I’ve heard that music soothes a savage beast, but in his case, food seems to be the best option.
It occurs to me that the mall is kind of close to the True Life complex, but I’m not worried. Time and distance have given me perspective. They don’t have any control that I don’t give them, and I’m not dumb or desperate enough to hand it over like last time.
It feels good to stretch my legs, and I duck into a few of the shops, buying some cute baby outfits I can’t resist. If only I knew the sex, I’d have a better idea of what to get. I haven’t started on the nursery yet, but I plan to soon. Since I already scanned most of what I’ll need for it, it’s just a matter of warming up my credit card and taking the leap.
A slight pang of loneliness shoots through me at the sight of the couple walking in front of me. He slings his arm around her neck, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle. Will I ever have that with anyone? Or am I destined to go from a single mom to an old spinster? I can’t imagine dating anyone once I have a kid. What if I chose the wrong person and they hurt my baby? Maybe alone is the better choice.
Trying to shake off the gloom that’s trying to pull me down—I suspect those pesky hormones are responsible—I pack my new purchases into my trunk. Just as I open my car door, she catches my eye. It’s the blonde hair, blowing in the wind, and the way she carries herself, her small frame slightly bent as she waves the flyers at people who ignore her on their walk past.
I’m frozen in place, torn between what I want and what is probably best for me. I can’t just leave without trying. She’s my sister. Once she sees I made it on the outside, maybe she’ll listen. She could come home with me now.
She doesn’t see me until I’m right behind her. My voice cracks as I utter her name for the first time since the night I begged her to go with me.
“Kelly.”
Her eyes swell and nearly fall to the ground before she drops her stack of papers and throws her arms around me. She’s sobbing so hard, I can barely make out her words.
“Dead. Anthony told me you were dead. That you were whoring to survive and some guy killed you.”
God, she’s so thin. Was I really that skinny when I left? Existing on rice, beans, and a few homegrown vegetables really takes its toll. “It’s me, Kelly. I’m here. I’m fine. He lied.”
When she calms a bit, I look around us, suddenly aware she may not be alone. She wipes her eyes and gathers the flyers. “There’s no one watching. They’re all at True Life welcoming two new members today. I doubt they’re looking for you anyway. Be kind of hard to drag you back since they told everyone you died.”
I feel sorry for whoever is joining now. “Kelly, please, come with me. I have a house and I’m working again. They weren’t able to take my money like they did the others. You can live with me. Start over. Please.”
Her blue eyes glaze over and she takes a step back. I can see the walls falling into place around her as her whole demeanor changes. “There’s no life but True Life. No one leaves. You know that.”
I grab her face in my hands. “I left. And you know others disappeared before me. They told us they were dead the same way they told you I was dead. It’s bullshit. You can have a better life. I swear. Kelly, you’re all I have left, my only family. I love you. Please, trust me. Come with me.”
“You need to go.” Her voice is monotone, mechanical.
“They murdered those people. You can’t want to be a part of that.”
“The other leaders arranged that on their own. Anthony explained everything. They veered off the path. We don’t hurt people. We help the earth.”
My shoulders slump. I don’t know what else I can say to convince her. “Kelly…” My hand travels to my stomach, the slight bulge hidden beneath a flowing shirt. I want to tell her she’s going to be an aunt, but the words stick in my throat. I can’t risk it. She’d know who the baby belongs to and though he’s dead, the other First Men aren’t, and she’s loyal to them, not me.
My heart cracks in half as I nod. “Okay, please don’t tell them you saw me.”
A bitter laugh fills the air. “They’d cane me for lying. You’re dead, remember?”
I give her stiff body one more hug. “Just remember I’m not. I’m really alive and waiting for you.”
Her chest shakes as she restrains her sobs, and I manage to make it to my car before I let mine take control. I’m devastated, but I’m also so angry. At the cult, and myself for ever getting involved, but mostly at Kelly. I saw the truth, why can’t she? I risked everything to leave, and she saw that it worked out for me. Why can’t she pull herself away from them?
We were stupid kids when we joined. With both our parents’ dead, we were alone. Kelly was twenty, but not very responsible, and she flitted from job to job and man to man. At eighteen, I had money and we had a good apartment, but we were both broken. Young, naïve, and on our own, without any kind of guidance. That was when True Life swept in and promised us a family. And we fell for it. It wasn’t until they wanted our financials that I hesitated.
I wasn’t ready to give up True Life, but I had way too much money to hand it over to another’s control. They didn’t know who I was. I lied, and gave them the few thousand they knew about in another account, then buried my ID and bank card, just in case. If it weren’t for meeting Dillon and falling in love with the psycho, I probably wouldn’t have stayed.
Getting a grip on myself, I wipe my eyes and fasten my seatbelt. A glance in my mirror shows me Kelly is gone. There’s no point in looking back. All the should haves and regrets just pile up and there’s no way to clear them. All I can do is keep going. There’s another life depending on it.
I crank up the music on the way home, and try to let it all go. Maybe I should start planning the nursery. It’ll be a good distraction and keep me focused on the positive.
It’s evening when I return, and a pile of roofing tiles lay beside my house, along with a few other tools. Jeremy is nowhere to be seen so I assume he’s done for the day.
I spend the evening making his chili, and crawl into bed early, hoping I won’t dream.
#
I’m awakened by hammering on the roof and shouting voices. Jeremy must have recruited someone to help. Whoever it is better not fall off the damn roof.
I throw on some clothes and run a brush through my hair, throwing it up into a messy ponytail. Slipping into my shoes and coat, I venture out to see how it’s going.
A box truck with Handler and Sons Roofing and Repairs sits in the driveway. What the? He hired roofers? What’s he doing, then?
The grass crunches under my feet, as our first frost of the year starts to melt. I’m halfway around the house when I see him climbing down a ladder. Another older man comes down right behind him.
“It’s cold out here. You should go inside.” Is he kidding me right now?
“You hired roofers? Why? I could have done that!”
The older man scoffs. “Apparently, he mixed up my company with a trade school.”
Jeremy gives him a dirty look, but the man just laughs, grabs a bucket, and heads back up the ladder.
“I’m paying them,” I insist.
His lips press into a thin line. “No, I hired them. I wanted to make sure I was repairing it right.”
“You’ve never done it before?”
“No.”
Throwing my arms up, I exclaim, “Then why did you volunteer?”
He reaches down and grabs a toolbox. “Just because I haven’t, doesn’t mean I can’t. I learn fast. And I’m paying them. I have more money than I could ever spend.”
“That’s not the point. I’m not some welfare case. I can take care of my own expenses.”
Sighing, he attacks me with those intense eyes. “I know that. Look, let’s just call it an apology for the way I treated you…that night. And at the yard sale.”
I lean against the house. “You know, normal people would just say sorry.”
“Never claimed to be normal. Besides, I won the bet. And you aren’t supposed to argue.”
“I agreed I wouldn’t resist you fixing stuff! Not hiring contractors!”
His smirk pisses me off. And I kind of want to kiss it off his face. “I don’t recall that being in the stipulations. Now, I have to get back to work.”
“No, you don’t!” the older man calls from above us.
I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, and I shout back up to him. “Good luck! He’s stubborn as fuck!”
I turn to go back inside, calling over my shoulder. “Your chili is done. Whenever you want to collect. You might want to get it before I dump in some puppy food. Since I don’t recall making it with beef being in the stipulations.”
I swear, as he climbs the ladder, I hear a deep chuckle.
What is this man doing to me?
A few hours later, he knocks on the back door. Dirt and sweat have never looked so good on a man. “We got it patched, but you may want to look into a new roof next summer.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
He steps inside while I retrieve his pot of chili and a pan of cornbread.
“Just heat it on low until it’s simmering.”
“Thanks.”
He takes the pot from me and heads back outside. I want to call after him, ask if he’d like to come over, watch TV or something, but I resist. The last time was just a fluke, and I can’t expect him to spend every second with me.
I decide to start on the nursery. I have the room painted a deep blue. Now is the fun part, where I get to paint the stars and a big smiling moon, looking down on my baby as it sleeps. I’ll be glad to find out the sex so I can stop thinking of the baby as it. Only a few more weeks.
I spend the rest of the day painting, and by the time I’ve finished, my little one’s room is transformed into a starry night sky, complete with The Milky Way and a sliver of moon. A quick visit to the website for Mom and Baby is all it takes to confirm my registry and place the order for everything I scanned at their store. I’m glad that delivery and set up are offered, since I can’t build furniture to save my life.
Despite the way I got into this condition, my excitement is starting to build as the baby becomes more real in my mind. It starts to really sink in. I’m going to be a mother. For the rest of my life, I’ll be a mother. And I’m surprised the realization doesn’t terrify me as much as I thought it would. I know I have a lot to learn, which is why I enrolled in the birthing and baby care classes that start tomorrow. I just hope I’m not the only one who shows up alone.
#
I am. The pastel hell of a room I’m lead to for the first class is full of smiling couples, the women at all different stages of pregnancy. Thick mats are arranged on the floor in a circle where everyone sits. I’m not big yet, but some of these women are close to delivery. I can’t imagine who thought it would be a good idea for them to sit on the floor when they won’t be able to get up. Of course, they have loving partners to help them.
I’m not going to let those bitter thoughts invade today though. Lots of women face pregnancies alone. After I sign in, a nice young woman greets me.
“Hi Melissa, I’m Nellie, and I’m glad to have you with us today. How far along are you?”
“Almost seventeen weeks.”
She beams at me. “Wonderful. If you want to choose a mat, we’ll be starting in just a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
After a quick glance around the room, I choose a mat between a couple who can’t be out of their teens yet, and two ladies who give me a bright smile as I approach. “Hi, I’m Marla and this is Etta.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Melissa.”
Before she can reply, the teen girl on my other side pipes up. “Where’s your partner?”
“Oh, well…I.” The words catch in my throat as I look up at a familiar figure marching toward me.
“Sorry I’m late,” Jeremy says, sitting down beside me.
The teen girl’s mouth drops open, which reminds me to close my own. I mean, I don’t blame her. His dark jeans and black henley do nothing to hide his muscular build. And that just-short-of-a-beard stubble, coupled with the smirk would knock any woman off her stride.
“I…no problem.” I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think he even looked at the flyer advertising this class and I sure as hell didn’t think he’d just show up. But I don’t want to call attention to us by asking him what the hell he’s doing here when he won the bet. I’m never going to figure this man out.
“Okay. Let’s get started. Most of you are familiar faces, but I see a few newbies so let me go over our lesson plan for today,” Nellie says. She goes over a few things and then announces, “We’re going to begin with some relaxation techniques and breathing exercises. Partners, please move behind your little mothers so they can sit between your legs. Moms, lean back against your partners chest so they can support your back.”
Jeremy scoots around behind me, extending one leg on either side of me. My heart rate jumps, and I suddenly want to run away. Not that I don’t love to be close to him, but I know he doesn’t want it. This is so uncomfortable.
He puts an end to my hesitation by looping an arm around my ribs and pulling me back until I’m practically in his lap. His lips press to my ear. “You aren’t getting shy on me now, are you?”
Humor rings in his voice. He’s laughing at me. Fine. I can do this. And I’ll enjoy every minute. “I’m good.” I tilt my head to peek up at him and whisper, “Thanks for coming.”
“Seemed like a good place to pick up chicks,” he whispers back. “You know, if they’re here, they must put out.”
My hand doesn’t slap over my mouth quite fast enough to prevent my loud laugh from filling the room. So much for not calling any attention. It’s so out of character for him, from what I’ve seen so far. I’ve never heard him joke.
Ignoring it, Nellie continues. “Some of you who have entered the third trimester may be noticing an increase in back pain. Your neck and shoulders may also be feeling the added burden, so let’s loosen up those muscles. Moms, tilt your head forward, and partners, start by applying pressure just under the bottom ridge of the skull and rubbing small circles.”
He sweeps my hair aside. His large hand gently grasps my neck, kneading the small muscles, and I have to restrain a moan. It feels so damned good.
Nellie continues giving instructions. “Move to massaging the curve of her neck and onto the shoulders.”
The man missed his calling. He should’ve been a masseuse. My eyes fall closed, and I relax, leaning back against his firm chest. I let myself revel in it for a moment, the feel of him supporting me, the scent of him surrounding me, his strong hands rubbing and caressing.
I’m glad I put on a thick bra because my nipples aren’t hiding their excitement as my body wakes up and wants so much more.
The massage session lasts a few minutes, then we move on to breathing exercises. “This is not the Lamaze breathing you’ve probably heard about. That’s another class,” Nellie explains. “This is just to find your center and control your stress. Creating a new life is no easy feat.”
God, I want him to find my center. The absence of his hands on my shoulders feels like a devastating loss.
“Wrap your arms around your partner and allow them to lie back against you, supporting their weight. Run your hands across their arms, bellies, neck, anywhere they like to be touched.”
Jeremy’s breathing seems to increase as well as he sweeps his fingertips up and down my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Are you cold?” he murmurs.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice at the moment. No, not cold. Way, way too hot. This isn’t supposed to be a turn on.
His palm slides over my slightly swollen abdomen, and my breath catches. I didn’t expect such tenderness in his touch. The baby chooses that moment to deliver its first kick. I’ve felt some movement before, but not this clearly.
Jeremy sucks in a breath. “I felt him kick.” He spreads his palm across my belly and waits. It doesn’t take long before the baby obliges with another strong kick, and Jeremy laughs aloud, making me giggle too.
Nellie beams down at us. “First time you’ve felt a kick?”
“Yes, it must like the massage,” I laugh.
Jeremy continues to keep his hand in place, a look of reverence on his face as the tiny kicks continue, then stop. He’s quiet as we move on to different breathing techniques, until Nellie says, “This would be a good time to offer encouragement and say something positive to the moms.”
Jeremy’s lips tuck in at the corners, and he whispers, “Your chili is fantastic.”
Giggles spill out of me and it takes me a few moments to get myself under control again. I was dreading this class, but he’s made it so enjoyable, so much fun.
Finally, Nellie announces the class is over and the date of the next session. “We’ll be working on basic baby care skills like swaddling and diapering,” she tells us, as everyone thanks her and files out the door.
Jeremy is parked beside me, and as we approach the cars, awkwardness sets in again. “So, thanks for coming. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s no big deal. You shouldn’t have to do everything alone. I have to run. I have another appointment.”
He barely spares me a glance as he talks and jumps into his car, driving away as if all the devils of hell are chasing him. From stroking my skin and whispering in my ear to running away. Hot and cold.
It’s exhausting.